?6 



SANDPIPER— MEADOW, GRASS, ANt> JACK SNIPES. 



Mex'co, during the seasons of migration, splendid days' shooting 

 can be obtained, but the stay of the birds is so short that it might 

 not compensate for a special visit. Where thousands are to be 

 seen to-day, not a dozen will be met to-morrow; but if you should 

 happen, in the spring and autumn, to be in either of the States of 

 Illinois, Iowa, or Indiana, when the frost and ice are breaking up, 

 in spring, or when winter makes its first appearance, you may 

 with safety calculate on having some of the finest sport. A year 

 or tw6 since, when in Illinois, in November, a sudden change took 

 place in the weather, and, although the morning was ushered in 

 mild and warm, by noon it was snowing, with a gale of wind 

 blowing from the north. From experience I knew that such a day 

 was not to be wasted over the fire. I got on my shooting-ground 

 with a very large supply of ammunition, and in two or three hours 

 I had to cease, as my stock was exhausted. My stand was in 

 a field of Indian corn that had been gathered into shocks, from 

 the back of one of which I took shelter from the blast, as well 

 as concealment. Never shall I forget the scene. The ducks 

 came in thousands, all flying before the wind, and if a dozen guns 

 had been there, instead of one, abundant work would have been 

 found for all. On another occasion, in the same locality, two 

 friends of mine killed in two or three hours in the evening, and in 

 an hour and a half the succeeding morning, eighty-four brace of 

 Mallard Duck. 



"In the spring of 1866, when in Iowa, the first day of thaw, I 

 went for a stroll, scarcely expecting to find game ; but when I got 

 on the prairie land, I was perfectly astonished at the clouds of wild 

 fowl arriving from the south, some of the ponds being so densely 

 covered with Duck that the surface could scarcely be seen. 



" If any of our readers intend to go in for work, and do not object 

 to roughing it, I should most decidedly say that the wild-fowl 

 shooting is good enough to justify a visit. But let him not be in- 

 duced to keep in the vicinity of settlements. Rather let him and 

 his attendants commence housekeeping on the margin of one of 

 the northern Minnesota lakes, if in summer (remember one that 

 j roduces an abundance of wild rice) ; but if the severe season 

 should be selected, the southern lagoons of the Mississippi will 

 afford him abundant sport. . . . 



"As soon as we were at our stands, we divested ourselves of shot- 

 pouches and powder-horns, hanging them on the bushes, that we 

 might the easier use them when required ; for, once the game com- 

 mences to arrive, every moment is of value. Before we had been 

 stationary man}' minutes, a few stragglers made their appearance — 

 the advance-guard doubtless of the main body. Some old and 

 experienced veterans, I should think, are generally chosen for this 

 duty, as these forerunners are wary in the extreme, and seldom or 

 never come within gunshot. However, we were not detained 

 idle ; a bunch of Mallard passed within range, and a salute wel- 

 comed their visit ; another and another party rapidly followed in 

 such quick succession that it was impossible to shoot at all. These 

 birds, so far, had only flown past, and, as night approached, their 

 numbers increased, and we being probably less conspicuous from 

 decreasing light, the open water at our side was chosen for their 

 resting-place. Down they would come on the water, almost im- 

 periling our heads, with the rustling sound of the Eagle in the act 

 of swooping upon his prey ; while some of their companions, less 

 certain of the security of this halting-place, would sweep round 

 and round our locale before they finally selected it. As soon as 

 the birds struck the water, they would commence bathing them- 

 selves, flapping their bodies with their wings, diving with short 

 plunges, and cutting so many capers, that one might imagine 

 them stark, staring mad. The fact, however, is, that all this ap- 

 parent eccentricity is caused by the necessity the Ducks feel of 

 cleaning themselves of the insects about their plumage, as well as 

 the pleasure they experience in finding themselves again in a 

 milder climate, with abundance of food around them, after endur- 

 ing a hard journey from the stormy north, protracted possibly 

 through a day and night. On arrival, therefore, they wash them- 



selves, and arrange their dress, before commencing their meal — 

 an example other travelers would do well to imitate. But, as the 

 night advanced, some strangers are mixed with the throng. The 

 dusky Duck, the Bald-pate, the Pintail, the Blue and Green-winged 

 Teal, shoot past, like arrows from a bow — the latter making, with 

 the rapid motion of their wings, a sound not unlike an ungreased 

 wheel or hinge. When the travelers are satisfied with the neigh- 

 borhood, they dash down upon the water, causing it to fly in spray 

 for yards around, while the first arrivals welcome the new-comers 

 with innumerable quacks. The report of a gun then will scarcely 

 alarm them, and, if they should rise, in a moment they will reset- 

 tle, doubtless feeling security from their numbers." 



In their general habits, the wild Ducks closely resemble our 

 tame species. The tame Ducks are, however, far behind their 

 progenitors in watchfulness, energy, and vigor. They swim, dive, 

 and fly much in the same manner, but decidedly better than tame 

 Ducks. Their voice, likewise, is precisely similar. The loud, 

 short "quack" of the female, and the duller "quack" of the 

 male; the conversational "week, week" and the call-note, 

 "waek, waek;" the alarm-cry, " katsch" or "rab, rab ;" in 

 short, all the sounds with which we are familiar in the tame 

 Ducks, are exactly repeated by their wild relatives. 



Soon after their arrival, the Wild Ducks begin to choose their 

 mates, the selection of course involving many a battle between 

 the rival males ; but their partners do not need to be won by a pro- 

 longed courtship. Their habit of associating in large flocks is at 

 once laid aside, and they attach themselves to their spouses with 

 ardent devotion. The place selected for the nest is generally some 

 quiet, retired, dry spot, under a bush, or concealed by herbage, 

 and very generally near the water, but sometimes at a consid- 

 erable distance from it. Occasionally — and indeed not unfre- 

 quently — they will take possession of some nest placed in a tree ; 

 such, for example, as that of a Crow. Their proper nest is 

 constructed of the stems and leaves of various plants, loosely put 

 together, so as to present internally a rounded cavity, which, at a 

 subsequent period, is warmly lined with down and feathers. 



The brood consists of from eight to sixteen eggs, of a somewhat 

 elongated shape, hard, smooth-shelled, and of a grayish-white 

 color ; in fact, exactly similar to those of the domesticated Duck. 

 The period of incubation — during which the female, who alone 

 broods, sits with the greatest patience and self-devotion — extends 

 over from twenty to twenty-eight days. The newly hatched young 

 ones remain perhaps for a single day in the nest, and are then 

 taken to the water. During the first few days of their lives, they 

 endeavor to conceal themselves as much as possible among the 

 reeds and water-plants ; and it is only when their wings have to 

 be tried that they venture to show themselves in open water. 

 Meanwhile, the mother takes the greatest pains to conceal them 

 from observation. In case of danger, she makes every endeavor 

 to draw it upon herself, or, if the assailants are such as to make it 

 at all practicable, she flies at them with the utmost fury, and uses 

 every effort to drive them away. The young brood follow her 

 with every demonstration of affection ; they watch her slightest 

 warning, listen to every sound she utters, and, when bidden, at 

 once hide themselves among weeds, or sink down between the ine- 

 qualities of the ground. 



Pectoral Sandpiper — Meadow Snipe — Grass Snipe — Jack Snipe. {Tringa 



maculata.) 



Fig. 3- 



The Pectoral, compared with others of its kind, is usually but 

 seldom seen, although in some localities it is occasionally tolerably 

 numerous. At early spring, it generally quits its winter-quarters, 

 and returns, under cover of the night, to its native haunts. It is 

 usually found in pairs, and seeks its food on marshy ground, but 



